


Trolley Talk (Or Lack Thereof)

by HermioneSpencer



Series: The Dearth Collection [1]
Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: F/F, it happened though, well this is not how I intended this to go
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-15
Updated: 2016-03-15
Packaged: 2018-05-26 21:56:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6257425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HermioneSpencer/pseuds/HermioneSpencer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cosima bonds with a blonde over a banging beat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trolley Talk (Or Lack Thereof)

The trolley was hot and stuffy as Cosima shuffled over on her seat to make room for a very sweaty man (well, put as much space between them as she could), who gave her an awkward smile. She wondered if it was a sort of apology, as if he knew he whiffed vaguely of rat’s piss. She smiled back at him slightly, and told herself not to be so judgemental. Maybe he couldn’t help it, instead of merely neglecting the shower for three months straight. Shaking her head to stop herself from overthinking things, she had a look around the sweltering trolley, seeing who else she was sharing this experience with today, besides Pissy. Opposite her, there was an old man with thin wispy hair atop his head with such defined creases on his face one would think he had lived with them his whole life and had learned how to put them to good use; he had a piercing gaze, and the lines on his face drew attention to his creased brows and surprisingly defined jaw. He seemed engrossed in a book that he was reading (Cosima noticed; _“How to Win Friends and Influence People”_ by Dale Carnegie), and did not notice Cosima’s intense staring. 

 

He had one hand holding the book, and the other hand that occasionally rose to turn the page rested on the knee of the woman next to him. She was a slightly younger woman, but had clearly lived a fair amount of years herself. She had arching eyebrows and large eyes, framed by brown hair that was tied back but two graceful curls falling on each side of her face. She was reading too, but the book in particular surprised Cosima. It was _“Nietzsche and Wagner: A Study in Subjugation”._ Why anyone would be reading such heavy stuff on public transport, Cosima could not guess. They seemed an odd couple, but she felt happy for them all the same. 

 

To her left was a very young girl with wavy, blonde – almost sandy – hair, who was sitting with someone who could have been her mother or her aunt, Cosima couldn’t be sure, but the loving look in the older woman’s eyes made Cosima think mother was probably correct. The older woman had brown hair and was wearing a leather jacket. She had a music player in her left hand, her right hand holding onto her daughter’s, and they had an ear bud each, listening to the same song. Cosima strained her ears to see if she could make it out. Mentally fist pumping at her success, she recognised the song as Elton John’s _‘Tiny Dancer’._

 

_Hold me closer, tiny dancer_  
_Count the headlights on the highway_  
_Lay me down in sheets of linen_  
_You had a busy day today_

 

Cosima couldn’t help but smile at the scene that played out before her. It warmed her heart. The mother seemed to feel her staring, and their eyes met. Initially she looked quite defensive, but Cosima smiled her signature winning grin, and thankfully the other woman pulled up a corner of her own mouth in response, and then turned her attention back to her daughter. 

 

The trolley came to a stop to pick up more commuters. Cosima turned from the mother and daughter to the trolley’s entrance, as a whole bunch of people got off (thank God). Only one person got on, but there were no more free seats, so the woman had to stand. And stand she did, right in front of Cosima, in fact. She was gorgeous. Totally stunning, in fact. She was in casual clothing, dressed in some loosely fitted dark grey jeans and a casual, large white blouse that dipped to a depth that Cosima was sure must have been between her breasts. Her hair was a mixture of blondes, golds and browns, and it was tied into a bun at the back of her head, but it gave such vivacity to her look that Cosima couldn’t help but stare at her. But due to the woman’s close proximity she was staring _up_ at the woman. She had some ear phones playing music very loudly, and Cosima recognised it immediately; _‘7 Days’_ by Craig David. Cosima could feel herself falling for her right at that moment. Craig was definitely helping. 

 

Suddenly she realised that she was still staring, and the woman had caught on; her doe eyes slowly swept up Cosima’s body until they finally settled on her eyes. They shared a moment of eye contact, and then Cosima stood up and, without talking (knowing that it would have been awkward for her to take her ear buds out), indicated that she could take her seat. Instead of taking it graciously and sitting, allowing Cosima a vantage point that would reveal the cleavage she so wanted to salivate over, the woman took her left ear bud out and smiled at her sheepishly.

 

“ _Non, merci._ I should not wish to take your seat – I shall not be on here for long.”

 

 _Oh my God,_ Cosima thought to herself. _French… What a Goddess…_

 

“Nah, I’m getting off next stop anyway,” Cosima waved her away, “it really is fine.”

 

“Ah, I am also getting off next stop.” The woman looked at her sheepishly, and adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder, a dirty white item that looked well worn, but loved. Cosima smiled at her.

 

“Well then, if neither of us will sit in the seat, then at least we can get off the trolley together.” She stuck her tongue out at the French woman, who giggled in response. “My name’s Cosima, just in case you didn’t wanna know.” She winked at the goddess and held her free hand out, the other one employed in holding onto the rail. The French woman’s hand that was holding onto her strap met Cosima’s halfway.

 

“Delphine… _enchantée._ ”

 

Cosima tried to copy the sounds of the word back to her, but she failed miserably and she knew it. Brushing past her failure, she felt the trolley come to a stop again, and she got off, followed by Delphine, much to her delight.

 

When they were both on the sidewalk, there was a moment in which neither knew quite what to do. Delphine was the first to speak.

 

“Are you going anywhere specific? Do you have somewhere to be, I mean… because I was not actually mean to get off here, but I wanted to talk to you for a more… indefinite period than just one stop.” She grinned cheekily at Cosima, whose jaw had hit the floor.

 

“No way! You’re shitting me. That’s the first time I’ve picked up a girl without actually flirting with her!” She gauged Delphine’s response, which seemed to be a positive one (a small grin), but Cosima couldn’t be sure. “Well, I don’t have anywhere I _need_ to be right now. Or at all today, in fact. Actually, I’m free all week! I’m on my spring break from college and I’m visiting home.”

 

“You know, I can’t believe you just said that, because I am too! But, I’m not here visiting family. I’m… experiencing American culture, if you will. I think it’s obvious I’m not native!” Delphine joked, and Cosima couldn’t help but smile enormously. Suddenly, she felt an idea barge its way into her mind, elbowing everything she needed to remember out the way until it was there in the forefront of her mind.

 

“Well, I can definitely help you there. But, I have a question for you.”

 

“Please, ask away.” Delphine’s body language seemed to open up a little, her shoulders relaxing and pulling back a little more.

 

“Okay, so I know I didn’t meet you on Monday, which kind of ruins the whole magic of it, but it _is_ Tuesday, so… are you free today?” She asked, feeling excited as she set up her next sentence.

 

“Um… yes, I am free today. I just got off the trolley to follow you like a little lovesick puppy, I can spare any time you are willing to. But… what does Monday have to do with this?”

 

Cosima grinned, and stepped forward to Delphine, balanced on her tiptoes and whispered into Delphine’s ear in as low and sultry a voice as she could muster.

 

“Because I’m going to take you for a drink on Tuesday, and then I’m hoping to make love to you by Wednesday, carrying on through to Thursday, Friday and Saturday, but I don’t intend to stop on Sunday...”

 

By the time the Monday after came, both Cosima and Delphine made a mental note to thank Craig David personally, the man who had provided the soundtrack for their passionate physical activities, but for the moment… they were too busy doing far more important things to each other’s bodies.

**Author's Note:**

> Dear Reader,
> 
> This isn't actually what I intended to write at all, but this is what it turned into. I hope you like whatever... this...is...  
> I've been wondering for years now how my brain works, and I still haven't worked it out. I promise the next thing I post will be better. Scout's honour.  
> Apparently in American English pavement means the actual road. That would have been weird.  
> Also, you would not believe how long it took me to find out what those tram things in San Fran are called. I'm laughing at myself.  
> I got inspired by these songs when I heard them on the radio on my way to school last Friday.  
> Thanks for reading this random little thing!
> 
> HermioneSpencer


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